Building Castles
by loveling
Summary: It takes years to build a city, it takes moments to topple it. Akira's life is permanently disturbed when Akari is tossed in.
1. girl interrupted

**Building Castles**  
Written by ze loverly **ginny**-ah 

_**one**:_ girl interrupted  
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The darkness of the night was terrifying, but at the same time, oddly comforting. It reminded Akira of what Hikaru had once said to him. During one of their many games before they had a chance to squabble, Hikaru had related playing go to creating the universe.

The go board was their universe, the dark night. One by one, the stars would appear as the player laid down a piece. One by one, the magnificent universe would be created by God.

Hikaru had grinned a lopsided, boyish smile as he laid down another star.

He became God.

It was a romantic notion, rather silly and could easily be excused as another one of Hikaru's oblivious ramblings. Akira himself had never been the least bit romantic or silly, not even as a child. Ever since he was young, there was always a perplexing seriousness about him that adults always commented on. Akira might have passed much of his childhood away without laughs if it weren't for the fact that adults were always compelled to make him smile.

Still, there was something about Hikaru's idea that Akira was undeniably attracted to.

Akira shook his head and the memory shattered away. He drew his breath, cold air nipping at his nose. The weather had been especially chilly these days, though Akira didn't mind. He rather liked the cold.

Akira liked taking walks out in the frosty outside and always admired the way the snow formed after fall. Every once in a while, he'd see a snowman in front of someone's yard and a smile would drift to his face. Akira never made a snowman himself, and he wasn't interested in breaking the status quo, but he always liked looking at the misshapen snow sculptures. Something about them was comforting to look at.

Afterwards, he'd return to his cozy home and eat a quiet dinner alone with his legs under the kotatsu. Winter was always more preferable in comparison to the heat of summer.

For that reason alone, Akira actually liked walking home from the go salon. He always refused rides from anyone who offered, until they hardly offered anymore.

As he neared the bridge towards his house, Akira stopped in his steps when he saw a figure facing the river. The petite figure, most definitely a woman, was holding onto the handle of a black suitcase. After squinting his eyes, Akira recognized the figure. Long, auburn-chestnut hair that's color was dimly visible under the dull street light, pale face with slightly rose-tinted cheeks and haunting burgundy eyes; she could have been no other but Fujisaki Akari.

They had met several times, each time under the presence of Hikaru, who Akira was spending an almost obscene amount of times with these days. Akira was well aware that she had some sort of crush on him back then. But, then again, everyone had known. He must have not seen her for some time now, though Akira vaguely recalled her gentle demeanor at some party not so long ago.

Akira shrugged. It was of no consequence to him. The thought of greeting her had not crossed his mind. They were not friends, and barely even acquaintances. He blinked and resumed his walk before halting to a stop, disbelief contorted in his features.

Akari let go of the handle and the suitcase stood tall on its own. With her hands now freed, she unbuttoned the front of her jacket and slipped it off, letting it fall to the floor. Underneath her jacket, she wore a pale top that contrasted with the ebony night. It was not snowing, but Akira figured she must have been cold. The thought of advising her to stay warm flew to his mind naturally, but he continued to stand still as she continued with her actions. She ignored the jacket bunched up on the wooden bridge and instead focused attention on her black, mary-janes. As she looked down at her shoes, bangs fell over her face and he could no longer see her features. A moment later, she bent down to the ground and undid the small, metal buckles. Afterwards, she took her shoes off and carelessly tossed them aside.

The white of her skin and her top seemed to make her glow against the night. Akari continued staring out into the river, her eyes hard to see from where Akira stood. Akari tossed her head up to the sky, and lifted her arms above. Locks of her dark hair cascaded down her back and hung completely still after it fell. Despite the cold, there was no wind at all in the air, not even an instance of a small gust of wind.

Akira let out a breath of air he didn't know he was holding.

She was almost magical, and Akira was entranced.

She almost resembled an angel.

Then Akari started to climb over the railing, Akira's eyes trailing after her every move.

In the next moment, she was in the air.

Akira continued to stay still, his legs frozen in place. Against all logic, for a moment he felt as if she would sprout wings and fly off into the night until she was a bright light like any of the other stars. He continued watching her figure, waiting for her to fly.

The harsh noise of her body splashing into the water reached his ears and he went back to reality.

Akira ran to where she fell—jumped.

His mouth was agape. He wondered what he should do. It was none of his business. He and Akari were hardly acquaintances; he did not have the right to interfere with her life.Plus, plenty of people committed suicide. It was none of his business at all. Akira could just leave her to do what she desired and no one could really blame him.

Except himself.

He quickly slipped off his own shoes and rid himself of his wool jacket. His wide eyes could see the small figure floating in the river, riding slowly on the current. The streetlight no longer hit her and the angelic glow she seemed to emit only moments earlier had gone.

Akira ran down the stairs on the side of the bridge to the ground level. He tested the river waters with his foot, a wary look crossing over his face at the steep cold.

Akira shook his head with a deep frown before he jumped into the river, swimming towards the faded angel.

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**A/N**: Akira/Akari. What the hell am I thinking? I have no idea. Oh well. Weeeeeee.  
**January 4, 2005**: edited quite a lot. Hopefully final draft, but in case there are errors and/or I decide to change anything, _2nd Draft_.


	2. burning flowers

**Building Castles**  
Written by a rather insane chicka named **ginny**

**_two:_** burning flowers  
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It was such a nice dream.

Akari was still just ten, watching fireworks with Hikaru's family along with her own. She stared wide-eyed as she saw a strange object shoot up into the night sky and explode into magnificence. The beauty was absolutely breathtaking, dozens upon dozens of shimmering colors transforming from one complex design to another.

"_Aa_…!" The fear that tiptoed around Akari's features earlier disappeared as she got used to the explosive noise and realized that the fiery colors faded into darkness and could in no way burn her. A radiant smile soon grew on her small face and her big, dark eyes reflected the fireworks in the sky.

In the next instant, Akari was grown and all other people disappeared. She sat by her lone self in the middle of a never-ending sea of barely green grass. Her torso leaned back all the way and her head hung upwards to face the sky. She would have fallen on her back if not for the fact she kept her arms wrung around her knees. The childlike smile was still on her more mature features and she slowly unfolded her fingers, allowing herself to fall onto the grass. Her eyes continued staring up at the sky.

The fireworks flew and one by one, they faded until there was only one left. The smile on her face remained and her eyes followed the traces of the last one's glitter fading and then there was nothing but black.

The grass should have caught her fall but it had disappeared and instead, she was sinking through tons of soft but strangely piercing clouds. She continued to drop but she was unafraid and did not attempt to scream. She did not feel happy, but she did not feel sad. Peacefulness washed over her and she forgot everything. As she fell, the clouds nipped at her clothes until she was naked.

At last, the ocean was visible beneath her but before there could ever be any impact, Akari felt herself lift up, swooping above the dark waters.

She had wings and she flew.

She flew higher and higher and higher… she never looked down.

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Long eyelashes fluttered for a while before eyelids swept open to reveal dark, wine orbs. Sunlight flooded into Akari's eyes and she blinked rapidly, her eyes darting back and forth around the view. Her mind was foggy and Akari could not place where she was nor remember the exact event of things.

Akari's fingers and toes felt icy, though her head and body felt too hot. She could feel sweat crawling up her legs and a strange, fever-like heat burning her face. Everywhere felt sore and she attempted to sit herself up but found it near impossible. It seemed that every ounce of her body turned into lead.

An image of a young girl who resembled Akari engulfed her mind and a strong urge to call for the girl grew. Akari opened her mouth in attempt to call for the little girl, but no noise would come.

She hurt everywhere, but the most painful was the strange throbbing in her chest.

Akari's eyes grew heavy and she fought to keep them open. Hundreds of fragmented questions came and go in her hazy mind. She wanted to know where she was, who had rescued her, and why. She wanted to know what had happened, whether she jumped or whether she fell. Last night's events came together in a broken picture, but Akari could still not recall everything. She fought to stay awake, but she was fighting a losing battle.

Akari's eyes fell shut, no energy left in her to keep them open.

As she drifted back to sleep, Akari decided she must not be dead and was sorely disappointed.

----------------------------------------------------

She did not know how much time went by since she last woke, but she knew it couldn't have been too long. She was still hurting everywhere and she was even more miserable now that her mind cleared and she remembered last night perfectly. She had not fallen from the bridge, but she couldn't say she exactly meant to jump either.

For the last half-year, Akari had regularly went on walks, especially near the bridge. Akari hadn't exactly planned to kill herself when she went out on a walk that night, but the idea hadn't come from nowhere. She had been miserable for a very long time and had thought about how death might be a nice reprieve from her life.

It was already an unusual day. Her landlady had kicked her out of her apartment and so Akari packed what little she had left in a suitcase and went on her walk much later than regular. When she crossed the bridge she noticed the river looked especially beautiful and the moon was hardly there. She was not used to seeing the river during the night and discovered that staring at the dark waters was calming. Akari was sure she spent at last an hour just watching the slow currents of the river.

She wondered how cold the water was and she wondered how it would feel if she could fly, even only for an instant before falling.

Without really thinking, she slipped off her shoes and shed her jacket, allowing the cold to sink into her skin.

A feeling washed over her and all her misery seemed to fade the colder she grew.

The stars enticed her, whispering in her ear about how nice it was to fly. The dark waters beckoned her, telling her to come in. Akari stared back at the water and she saw a young girl staring back at her, sending her an inviting smile.

It was then Akari jumped.

In that instant, she was truly happy. She was flying and life was nothing compared to it. The dull pains in her heart were gone and for a moment she felt free.

Akari would have been glad to die.

Her life was miserable. There were many problems wrong with her life. There were many problems wrong with her self. There were many things she found inadequate with herself, many things she hated. There were countless failures, and each and every one haunted her memory and lay in a piling hill at her feet.

Akari felt even more miserable when she realized she tried to take her life but failed at that too. She was an utter failure in everything.

Then there was her, and there was him.

For months, an empty feeling had lingered in her heart and enveloped her soul.

Akari did not deserve to live.

She was not sure what she was still doing alive.

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**A/N**: I can't imagine what compelled me to write an Akira/Akari. I am a huge Akari/Hikaru fangirl and I have been meaning to write an Akari/Hikaru fic forever. Instead... I wrote this. Oy vey!  
I'm quite surprised that so many people are welcome to the Akira/Akari shebang. I'm even more surprised that some people have been wanting it. The things I learn… Anyway, thanks for reading. According to the outline in my head, I have quite a long ways to go before I'm done with this fic. :)


	3. stranded

**Building Castles**  
Written by a confused, confused **ginny **

**_three:_ **stranded  
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When she heard the door open, her eyes snapped open. She still felt groggy and pains still ached all over her body. Yet despite the great tiredness that she was submerged in, she was not sleepy at all. She felt as alert as she could have, though her head still felt some nausea, which she expected from a probable fever.

She heard light, well-paced footsteps to her bedside. The noise was barely audible even in the bleak silence. She turned to her unwanted savior and her features transformed into a countenance that clearly expressed her utter bewilderment.

"_You!_" Akari gasped, falling into a coughing fit afterwards. Akira immediately patted her on the back with concern but she pushed him away weakly, her mind feeling delirious. She was miserable enough with the fact that she was not yet dead, but that the one who saved her was someone she was acquainted with was even more distressing.

She had heard that people had once wished themselves dead. Akari wished she could do the same.

"Why are you here?" Akari managed to ask after she stopped coughing, glancing at the young man who sat on a chair next to her bed.

Akira gave a wry smile before answering.

"You're in my home."

"Oh."

Akari shied away from his intense gaze, straining her neck up to glance outside the window as best as she could. The sun did not shine. Instead, it chose to hide behind the winter clouds. The outside looked crisp and beautiful; the almost-blue snow that blanketed the ground was obviously new. It looked cold outside but the inside of the house remained a toasty warm.

Akari finally let down her head when she couldn't hold it up any longer. The pangs of pain that had started to sting the back of neck disappeared instantly when her head met support against the pillow.

She turned to her silent host and questioned, "May I leave then?"

Akari hoped he would say yes. Akira had never struck her as a social person, and she was sure he'd be more than happy to get her out of his hair.

To her disconcertment, the corner of Akira's mouth quirked up and he answered in the utmost polite manner, "I think it is best you get better first, Fujisaki-san."

His politeness masked a command.

A quick burst of anger flamed in her. She was furious with him. He had no right to keep her hostage in his home and he had no right to any of her business. She wondered why he bothered to save her at all. There was no point—she'd just take her life later anyway. She immediately put Touya Akira on a hate list in her head and wished he'd go away and stop bothering her.

A nasty frown formed on her mouth, marking her evident displeasure to the dark-haired boy.

"You can't keep me here!" Akari snapped angrily, managing not to fall into a coughing fit after speaking. She turned her body over on the side away from Akira, rustling the blankets and making as much noise as she could while she did so. She wished she could stand up, or at least sit up to further her defiance, but her body wouldn't let her. She knew she probably couldn't get herself out of the damned house even if he'd let her, but she hated him nonetheless.

Akira stood and walked to the door. He turned the gold doorknob and opened the door. Akari noted that it didn't make a creaking noise like the doors at her old apartment. As he left the room, he spoke softly.

"You should rest, Fujisaki-san."

He closed the door quietly.

When Akari was sure he was gone, she turned over on her back and stared at the ceiling.

Rationality slowly slipped back in her mind and Akari had to admit to herself that no sane person with at least an ounce of compassion would actually let someone in her condition just leave. In all honesty, Akari wouldn't have let Akira leave her home if their positions were reversed.

But their positions were not reversed. Akari was still the prisoner, and he was still the dungeon-master.

Reason left her again.

Akari remembered the life she was living.

She did not want to live.

She did not deserve to live.

She was determined not to live.

Touya Akira prevented her from doing what she most desired.

He was her enemy.

She hated him again.

Akari screamed but the angry shriek came out as a strangled sob, tears burning down her cheeks.

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He wasn't sure what to do with her.

Space wasn't a problem. Akira had made plenty of money from being a professional go player, and he came from a wealthy family anyway. He had inherited the go salon when his father passed away, and he still tutored when time permitted. With his money, he had purchased a beautiful house with more rooms than he could use.

It was the whole manner of how to treat her that was mind-boggling.

Akira did not expect her to thank him when she met him, and he did not begrudge her obviously furious emotions. He knew she probably hated him at the moment, and he knew she wanted to die.

He did not know what he should say her. He did not know how to treat her. He did not know how he should act. He just had no idea what to do with her at all.

He had no experience with this sort of situation whatsoever. Akira did not have many friends, and the few friends he did have were all mostly optimistic, young men who acted a lot younger than they actually were.

He was not well acquainted with socializing with people on personal terms in general.

Especially women.

Akira would have liked to lay the responsibility of Akari onto someone else, Hikaru perhaps. But he already knew that was out of the question.

Akira sighed.

One thing he did know was that he was determined not to let her die.

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**A/N**: And they finally interact! Woohoo. And this is very curious. Readers have seriously requested Akari/Akira? Where? When? Who? I'm still so astounded by that.


	4. the hospital room

**Building Castles**  
Written by a **ginny **who is sippin' on some tea herself 

**_four:_** the hospital room  
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She awoke and for a brief moment she wondered if she was in heaven before she remembered that she was rescued by that man—Touya Akira. Akari's mouth turned up into a petulant frown. She rather disliked the fact that Akira saved her. Akari would have much preferred a stranger rather than him. There was a certain awkwardness that remained between them, a trace of familiarity that didn't quite fall along the lines of friendship. A stranger would have offered more comfort.

"_Agh_," Akari moaned in frustration, keeping her eyes shut in hopes that she would wake from some horrible nightmare. Her hands rose upwards to firmly rest on her forehead. She pressed her palms against her warm skin and blamed the gods for having a sense of humor. The whole situation between her and Akira was ridiculous, ironic, preposterous… Akari could go on with a myriad more words.

She could not stand any of this at all.

Akari finally removed her hands and slowly opened her eyes, peeking at the room she laid rest in. Akari was sure she was here for some time, perhaps a day or two, but she had been too sick to take a glance at her surroundings.

Fully opening her eyes, Akari tried to move and was both delighted and surprised to find that she could. She tugged off some of the blankets covering her to free herself from their restraint. A slight trace of a smile tugged at her lips as she relaxed against the wall and observed the room.

It was larger than her own—though, she did not have one anymore. The room was also very clean and neat, but she was not very surprised since Akira always struck her as the neat type. Akari's eyes lifted towards the objects of the room.

Akari did not like Akira, and she unreasonably wanted to dislike everything about him, but Akari could not help but to commend his impeccable taste. Admittedly, she was a fan of the light, beige walls. The room was sparsely furnished with just only the necessary, but that was understandable since she doubted he ever stepped foot in the room before. Akari examined the furniture and slightly blushed when she realized that even for a spare room, the furniture was indeed nice… and very expensive looking.

She sighed and slid back down comfortably into the bed.

Akira had reasonably good taste, but Akari still hated him.

A small smile suddenly swept up her lips as Akari finally found fault.

She spoke aloud, her voice hoarse and her expression almost smug.

"This room is dusty."

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The young master of the house was standing still in front of the island countertop. If anyone had seen him, they would have probably been confused and infused with curiosity. It was a strange sight indeed; the dark-haired go player standing in the kitchen for the past five minutes staring at two small boxes on the marble counter.

_Green Tea._

_Earl Grey._

Akira was trying to decide which tea to serve to his guest.

Though, he realized he was being rather ridiculous. His guest was not happy. Whether or not she preferred Green Tea to Earl Grey was not really a question. If Akira asked her what tea she preferred, he did not doubt that she would just glower at him angrily and refuse an answer.

Still, it served as an excuse to stall his visit to the girl.

Akira sighed and finally placed two of the green tea bags into the cup before picking up the tray and heading upstairs. He rapped softly on the door to notify his presence before entering.

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"Would you like tea?" Akira asked when he entered her room. He sat beside her and placed the cup next to her on the bedside. "Drink, it's good for you," Akira said, taking a sip from his own cup of tea.

Akari ignored him, waiting for him to leave. She refused to meet his eyes, and instead glued her eyes to the ceiling.

A minute passed in silence.

It was the awkwardness she had been dreading.

Akari whipped on her side away from Akira. She wanted him to leave soon and made a very obvious sigh in hopes that he would just take the damn hint and go. She was tired of the strange awkwardness whenever he entered the room, and she would have very much liked to kick him out but she thought that she'd feel even more awkward since it was his house in the first place.

When he would not take the hint, she turned around angrily, gave Akira a furious glare and knocked the tea by her bedside onto the ground agitatedly.

She seethed when the cup did not shatter. Instead, the thick, ceramic cup made a muted _thunk_ against the pale carpet and the liquid quickly spread throughout the floor. A very light green tinged the carpet and the cup remained unharmed.

Akira seemed unperturbed. He put his cup on the bedside and picked up the knocked cup, placing it neatly back up onto the tray.

Akari's eyes keenly followed all of Akira's actions. She sighed again, this time lethargic.

"I don't belong like this," Akari mumbled very quietly.

"Belong like what?" he implored, picking up his cup of tea and taking a sip.

Akari faced Akira, brown eyes staring unwaveringly straight into his green ones. There was no more of the anger he was now used to seeing, only a distant tiredness that Akira had never seen in anybody's eyes before.

Her words were empty and cut through the air like glass.

"I don't belong alive," she said simply.

Akira looked at her with startled eyes.

The astonishment left him and he regained his composure, glanced at her warily, picked up the tray and left the room.

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**A/N**: After I started writing this Akari/Akira fic, I've been curious and wanting to read one myself. I think the dynamics between the two are interesting, not nearly as cool as Hikaru/Akari but still pretty cool.  
Ah yes, thanks for all the comments! It's been cool! Oh and yes, I am continuing Unchained Melody. I just happen to be stuck…


	5. glass conversations

**Building Castles**  
Written **ginny **who is suffering from a runny nose 

**_five:_** glass conversations

* * *

She would not speak to him.

After that horrible conversation the other day, all conversation between the two had seemed to dry up. At least, any conversation coming from _her_. She refused to speak to him at all. Every time he knocked at the door when he came up to visit her, she would already have turned her back to him by the time he actually opened the door. Every time, he greeted her with his usual politeness as he brought a tray of food or tea to her bedside. Every time, she refused a response.

She would not even dare look at him.

Akira was starting to fall into this routine; his whole life was made up of routines. That was how he was programmed since he was barely a child. He woke up early and brushed his teeth before taking a shower. Then he would eat cereal or a microwave breakfast food—usually Minami Pankeiku—Akira was not one to experiment. Afterwards, he would read the morning paper while sipping on tea—he preferred _Earl Grey_ himself. He'd see to any chores—grocery shopping on Tuesdays and Fridays, bills on Mondays, and tending to the garden on Saturdays. After lunch, Akira would usually watch the news or any Go program before he started reviewing yesterdays' games. Then, at five, he'd head to the go salon and catch dinner out with Hikaru and practice games until he walked home at nine.

Then there were the days when he had to attend a tournament—those days had a different routine.

Akira's life was made up of routines; he _liked _routines. They were organized, manageable, and kept him generally content and aware of what was going on in his life.

He did not, however, like this routine.

Akira did not like rapping on her door three times to notify his presence before opening the door and stepping towards the bed she lay in. He did not like bringing up her tray with the food she never ate and the tea she never drank—at least not in his company. He did not like sitting there, every once in a while attempting dull conversation, and he most definitely did not like her never responding to him. He did not like how she always turned his back to him; he did not like how he could never see her face.

He did not like how despite the fact he knew of her for many years, he didn't really know her. He didn't really know Fujisaki Akari at all—and he could feel it starting to drive him crazy.

For once in his life, the routine was not working for him in any way at all.

* * *

Akira knocked on her door, and after a few seconds he sighed. There was still no answer, but he did not really expect one in the first place. He entered and saw Akari had already turned away from him. She was still quite pale, but no longer the ghostly white she was when he first brought her to his home. Back then, he had admittedly been a bit afraid she was already half-dead. Though, he was beginning to understand that perhaps she had already been half-dead for a while now.

He put down the tray he was carrying on the bedside. Her dinner was neatly piled in dishes on the tray, the best Akira could conjure up with his poor cooking skills.

"Fujisaki-san, do you feel better today?" Akira asked courteously, as always.

No response.

He did not know why he even bothered. She never gave him a response. First she was angry, then she was bitter, and now she was utterly blank. Akira expected the first, and he preferred the first most of all. At least when she was angry, she was expressing emotion. The bitterness was truly a shock, he had never expected the cheerful girl he knew to be so distasteful of life… but then again, he never really did know her.

It was the blankness that was the worst. It seemed to him that she was hardly alive, even though her body was getting better. Akira was practical; he was never dumb, but neither was he ever a philosopher. He did not engage in long reflections about human nature, so it was not until he faced her blankness that he realized that humans weren't meant to be emotionless. It wasn't until now that it occurred to him that humans were supposed to _feel_.

"Fujisaki-san, you should eat," Akira attempted again.

No response.

He sighed and began to exit the room, glancing back at her back before he stepped out of the door. He halted mid-step. Akari would not speak to him, but that didn't mean Akira would not speak to her.

He spoke, this time with sincerity.

"Fujisaki-san, you said you don't belong alive. But that's not true. I think…." Akira paused, searching for the right words to express what he felt. He had wanted to speak to her pertaining to the subject for a while, but he hadn't quite worked up the courage until now. Akira decided he couldn't let it go on any longer.

This was one routine he had to break.

He stared at the small of her back and smiled gently, thoughtfully. Even though she could not see him, he continued to smile. He still did not know what to say, or how to say it, but he had to say something—anything.

"I think… everyone deserves to live. I don't think anyone deserves to die," Akira hesitated. "Not you, not anyone."

He continued to stare at her for a while longer before he exited the room and closed the door. As he left, he wondered what she was thinking.

The door closed and Akira could not see, but Akari started to cry

* * *

**A/N**: I updated! Finally. 


	6. finding the smallest rock

**Building Castles**  
Written **ginny **who is ready to graduate high school 

**_six:_** finding the smallest rock

* * *

Akira laid down another piece of the universe, his pale fingers dipping into the black nothingness whilst putting into place a gleaming star. As the game between Hikaru and Akira continued, one by one, the stars would come to light.

"_Mm_," Akira tipped his head in thought at Hikaru's next move.

"_Huh_," Akira's fingers gently tapped against one of the cold stones waiting to be brought to light.

"_Hn_," Akira gazed at the universe before stealing a quick glance at his opponent.

"What is it?" Hikaru finally demanded impatiently, knowing full well that Akira had something on his mind. He had let it slide before, but it seemed recently that Akira's mind was strangely preoccupied—which may have been quite normal for regular people, but was something very unusual for his rival. And what was stranger was that it seemed to Hikaru that Akira's mind was only getting _more _preoccupied, not less.

"It isn't really anything," Akira brushed away Hikaru's query, but Hikaru arched an imperious eyebrow. There was no need for Hikaru to push Akira to talk any further; Akira already knew Hikaru wouldn't let it go at this point.

"Didn't you have a friend named Akari?" Akira finally brought up the subject he had longed to discuss with his rival for a while now.

Hikaru looked surprised. This was not a question he was expecting. He looked up thoughtfully before replying; "I haven't seen her in the longest time. It's been ages… not since the funeral, actually."

"Funeral?" Akira was clearly surprised. He hadn't heard any news of a funeral before.

"Her daughter and husband's funeral."

* * *

After the game, Akira walked especially fast that night instead of taking his time and paying any attention to the still beauty of the night. He opened the gate to his house and unusually clumsy fingers fumbled with his keys. Managing to get the door open, he laid down his bags and removed his coat, hanging it onto one of the brass hooks that lined up beside his door.

His throat was parched. A feeling welled up in his stomach and he felt the deepest pain when he thought of his guest. From the instant he had brought Akari into his home, Akira had not known how to react at all. And after he realized that the Akari he now saw was incredibly unlike the one he had met before, Akira hoped that maybe if he found the reason for her depression he'd be able to help her.

"_Her husband and daughter died in a car crash a while back—about a year ago," Hikaru said, his eyes clearly showing sympathy towards his childhood friend._

Akira shook his head as he dwelled back on Hikaru's words. Now that Akira knew the cause, he was even more lost.

The back of his throat itched and Akira swallowed, his mouth dry. He walked into the kitchen for a glass of water. The kitchen was not lit, but the few rays of the moon dimly transpired the room with light. Akira stood at the doorway; a sinking feeling of knowing something was misplaced was swimming in his stomach.

The first thing he noticed was a knife with the slightest streak of blood on it casually lying on the wooden floor a few feet away from him. Panic rose inside of him and he rushed towards the crumpled girl sitting in the corner, rocking back and forth.

He heard her heaving sobs and she finally turned around and moaned pathetically.

"I couldn't do it…"

His eyes zeroed in on the tiny cut that she had started on her arm—before, he assumed, she tossed the knife away. A part of him wanted to shake her for trying to end her life. A part of him wanted to squeeze her to death for not succeeding. But most of him stood there, a few feet away from her, looking but not moving and staying a great distance away from _her_.

Akira continued. He still did not know anything, and it was so very uncomfortable to him. Everything was moving without him and he was staying in place, confused. Life was strange when the one laying down the stars was not him.

"I couldn't do it…" Akari mumbled again, her tear streaked face looked at her arm with disdain.

And Akira wondered—did she think she was weak because she could not do it?

His feet moved. One by one, he took steps towards Akari and it was almost surreal for Akira didn't feel like he was commanding the steps at all. It felt almost like he had the tiniest amount of control over his body; it reacted while his mind dumbly tried to rationalize and react and think and try not to be stuck in the perpetual confusion that was consuming him.

Akira went to her and arms placed themselves around her body in an awkward position. His body was moving, and he wasn't sure what to do, but there was a pang in him that he was not familiar with but was compelling him to make her feel better. In an almost magnetic way, Akira felt drawn to her body. She seemed not to notice his touch at all, and Akira continued to move his arms until they settled around her less awkwardly and more comfortably.

Still, her touch was cold but the awkwardness began to settle comfortably between them.

His mouth opened and he spoke.

"Fujisaki-san," he started. "It's okay, Fujisaki-san."

She continued to sob.

* * *

**A/N**: I updated! Finally. I just got back from backpacking and had been quite busy with high school grad. At least its over. YES! Anyway, I shall be quite busy with college now, but I will still try to update. And yesss, we finally find out why Akari's all messed up in the head. I really didn't want her to be totally aching over Hikaru and wanting to kill herself over something so cliché and unrealistic—that was a goal of this before I even started writing. I really wanted to write depressed, suicidal Akari, but one with a legitimate reason. 


	7. old chinese proverb

**Building Castles**  
Written **ginny **who is in college now! Oh yeah! 

**_seven:_** old chinese proverb

* * *

He was not much taller than her; Akira was never quite tall. But the length between their heads wasn't entirely his failing for it wasn't as if he was that short either. It was more of a combination of Akira being slightly shorter than most young men, and Akari being slightly taller than most young women.

Still, she looked so small sitting in the chair. Just looking at her like that, he would have never guessed in a thousand years that she was almost his height—Akari looked so small and vulnerable, almost like she was made of glass, giving the impression that if she tripped and fell, she'd shatter into a million pieces.

The water continued to pour into the cup, and when it reached the top, Akira let go of the switch and handed her glass. Akari's slim hand received the cup from his and she held it up to her lips. She held the glass up to her lips and drank, her throat hoarse from all her crying. In a moment's span, she placed an empty glass back on the table.

Akari looked a mess. Her dark hair was unkempt and unbrushed, while one of Akira's plaid shirts hung off her slim frame. Dried tears stained her cheeks and her lips still remained cracked even after contact with water.

Silence resumed between them and Akira continued to observe her while Akari stared at her hands.

She looked up at Akira and spoke pointedly, her words bitter and contrite, "You know, you have to take care of me now." One of her hands brushed a few strands of hair back behind her ears. "I'm living because of you, and I have no home to go back to."

He was unfazed and only continued to stare plainly into her wine eyes. He wasn't sure why—compassion was something that Akira did not daily practice, but at that moment, he wanted nothing more but to save her. The whole concept astounded him; he wanted to _save her_—a mere stranger whom he didn't even really care about!

Akira swallowed.

At least, not until now.

She laughed emptily and he wondered why she ever laughed at all.

"Have you ever heard that before? Once you save a person's life, you're responsible for it forever." Akari paused, her eyes distant. Akira continued to gaze at her and she quickly glanced away. "I guess it's true…" her voice trailed off, all the confidence that had just imbedded her words earlier vanished and Akira could sense the uncertainty she was starting to feel.

"I'll take care of you, Fujisaki-san."

He reaffirmed her first words. If she didn't have any confidence left, Akira did not mind reassuring her.

She did not look at him.

It grew quiet again for a while and he could see that her hesitance was growing as she started getting more rational. Finally, Akari's eyes cast back at Akira, who continued to stare at her intently with his green eyes.

"I have nothing," Akari said, speaking seriously. The uncertainty had vanished to where the confidence left; there was only honesty now.

"I understand." Akira did not care if she had everything in the world for he had only started caring about her when she was empty-handed.

"I'm prone to emotional outbursts," Akari continued, her lips curved up just the slightest.

"I know." Akira was not good with dealing with her sudden bursts of emotion but he was rest assured that would pass with time. And what of the emotional roller coasters would remain would only be natural.

"I'm never going to thank you," she pushed further. He wondered if she would go out of her way to stay true to her word.

"That's fine." Akira did not need her thanks; she never asked for his help in the first place.

The silence settled in again and the two stared at each other. Yet as the silence continued, everything around them grew much louder. The ticking of the clock seemed to be monumentally present, while the faucet with the broken leak that was not worth fixing could suddenly be heard. He could also hear Akari's soft breaths of inhalation and exhalation. He could even hear his own heart.

The moonlight scattered through the window and lit her face and as much of a wreck she was, Akari looked all the angel he had first imagined her to be on that night she flew.

"You're crazy," Akari said finally, looking away.

It was strange. Akira had believed his life to be perfectly satisfactory before he met this woman. Akira was not extraordinarily happy; there was nothing that made him feel like he was living "the life of the gods" as sometimes Hikaru and Waya would say. At the same time, there was nothing that made Akira miserable—he was far from miserable, and actually quite content.

Akira met Akari, and he suddenly felt like nothing in his life would be satisfactory if he did not save her.

She had to live.

"You belong alive, Fujisaki-san."

The slightest hint of a smile crept up on her lips. That, or it was a trick of the moonlight. Akira couldn't say he quite cared. At the moment, he was just happy she was still alive.

And from then on, his happiness grew and grew. As he led her back up to her room and closed the door, a strange flower blossomed within him and he felt a feeling he had never felt before—a feeling that was far beyond mere satisfaction.

Akira wanted her to live, but it would not be until much later that he realized that her existence was teaching him how.

* * *

**A/N**: weeeeeee. After this, it will get considerably more light-hearted. Yippee! 


	8. teaching go

**Building Castles**  
Written **ginny **who is in college now! Which kinda sucks. Too… much… work… ughhhhh 

**_eight:_** teaching go

* * *

She was bored. 

She had been bored most of the time she was holed up in her room, from when she refused to speak to Akira to when she was simply by herself in bed. At the time, however, her determination to be hard to work with and her desire to follow her departed family greatly outweighed her boredom practically to the point where it was unnoticeable.

She may have been bored at the time, but most of her just wanted to die already.

Now, after she realized (bitterly) that she was not strong enough to do her duty of following her loved ones, all her previous determination to cause Akira as much suffering and hassle as possible drained away. Rather, she wanted to give him the least amount of trouble possible. And as the hours went by, turning into days, as Akari realized (bitterly) that perhaps maybe she didn't _really_ want to die, things changed.

For instance, Akari no longer spent every second lying on the bed cursing and feeling desperately the pangs of desiring a well-deserved death.

So naturally, her boredom won out and resurfaced quite painfully.

Akari looked out the window, it was still sunny and Akira was home today. Akari knew because Akira made it a habit to say goodbye when he made his leave, and though Akari would never admit it even though she had a slight suspicion Akira knew already, Akari watched him walk away from the window anyway.

She was really bored.

Akari slowly slipped out of the bed. Her legs felt weak from continuous inactivity, but she was quite capable of walking. Akari walked in cautious circles before she started to hasten into quicker circles. She felt a bit like a toddler learning to walk. Only the whole process just took about a minute. She stopped and stared at the door longingly.

The door—it led to the hallway, which led to the stairs, which led to the living room in which Akira was probably occupying himself with some activity of one thing or another.

Although Akira visited her three times a day to drop off her breakfast, lunch, and dinner, he kept his distance. He didn't say anything, but Akari was aware he was doing this because he was simply trying to give her room to breathe. Which was a highly considerate thing for him to do, but Akari was beginning to feel the effects of solitude. She was starting to miss company.

But Akari didn't want to admit it. She felt like a weak enough person already, failing at everything she attempted. Plus, she thought quite rationally, Akira seemed like a boring person anyway. He was probably doing something mundane and uninteresting, and if Akari went outside to where he was, she'd probably be just as bored—just out there with him instead of in the room by herself.

Was it really worth it to show her want for his company, when she'd be just as bored?

_Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesssssssssssss._

If she didn't have a conversation with somebody other than herself—she was now talking to herself quite a lot these days—Akari was sure she was going to go insane. Or maybe she was crazy already. Maybe she already lost her sanity and was at the point of craziness where she couldn't recognize insanity.

She took in a deep breath and opened the door, walked through the hallway, tiptoed down the stairs, and peeked her head into the living room.

Akira was playing go.

Akari couldn't help but roll her eyes and let the smallest smile trickle onto her face.

"Play with me," Akira murmured softly aloud. Akari took a step back in surprise, wondering how he was aware of her presence. She shook her head and ignored it; Akira always had a way about things. Akari stepped towards the go table and sat down on the chair. She stared at him, but tried very hard to put on an uninterested look on her face. (_I don't need you. No, I'm not bored. I'm just here for no real reason. I don't really want or need your company. I'm not weak_.)

Akira smiled and cleared what he had been playing earlier. He set up a handicap and the game commenced.

The two played with only the noise of the go stones being placed on the board.

Akari broke the silence after she took a huge hit.

"Your diet is horrible," Akari clicked her tongue the slightest in disapproval. It hadn't taken long for her to notice the nutritious meals that Akira was lacking; she had been a mother after all, and all motherly instincts were ringing when she noticed that the majority of what Akira, and consequently her, ate was ramen and other instant meals.

"I don't cook," Akira replied simply.

Akari stared at him. It was rather strange. Akira was a young, wealthy man who could manage hiring a cook and even a maid, but he didn't. And though he was not in any means in need of a maid, he most definitely was in dire need of a cook.

She sighed.

"No ramen tonight," Akari declared as she set down a stone.

Akira was silent.

"Then what will we eat?" Akira set down one of his own and captured a few more of her pieces.

She stared at the board and bowed, "I resign."

Akari looked up and gazed thoughtfully at Akira.

"I'll make you a proper meal," Akari announced.

"Please," Akira murmured and waved his hand to the kitchen, as if giving her the keys to a domain of his house. Akari stood up from the chair and stepped inside the kitchen.

"But just this once," she said nonchalantly. This was payback for him keeping her company, and well… maybe everything else that he did for her.

"Of course," Akira replied with a strangely, knowing, smile that made Akari feel funny. She wasn't sure if she liked the smile. A part of her thought that maybe it was kind of nice, but most of her was confused and trying to decipher it, and some of her was infuriated even, from not being able to crack the code.

Akari had a feeling he understood her too well; that disturbed her.

She ignored it and walked briskly around the kitchen, surveying the different things he had around the cabinets and in the refrigerator.

At dinner, she presented a traditional Japanese dinner that, from the looks of his face, Akira enjoyed immensely. Akari beamed proudly to herself; she was not unaware of the fact that she was quite the capable cook.

"Thank you," Akira bowed.

"It was just this once," Akari sniffed.

She began to cook their dinner on a regular basis.  
**

* * *

A/N**: weeeeeeeeee. Thanks for reading (and reviewing) this so far! Fic is now heading into a lighter side, so for all of you who have been waiting for the happier romance, here it comes. And for all you angst-fiends, don't worry, it's not all gone yet. Mwahahahaha. (I am an angst-fiend mahself.)  
Okay, at this point Akari is still suffering from guilt and slightly a bit not sane. Akira is unsure of his feelings, but quite perceptive to Akari. Just for clarification.And to Rayearthiann: I was gonna mention it in the last a/n but I forgot. The backpacking trip was actually something me and a good friend just did together right after high school grad. No school was actually involved. :)


	9. angels of the silence

**Building Castles**  
Written by **ginny **who is sorry she hasn't been able to update in years 

**_nine:_ **angels of the silence

* * *

For everyone, there were defining moments in life. For some people it lasted a year, for some people it was only a second long. It was different for different people, and different for different situations. For Akira, one of the most defining moments in his life was when he mistook Akari for an angel.

One second—half a second.

From that instant on, his simple life had become infinitely more complicated.

It had been three weeks since then.

It had been three weeks, which was dangerously close to four. Akira found this fact unsettling because four weeks meant a month and a month would multiply in time to turn into a year.

The amount of time Akari was staying at his house was marked discreetly on his calendar. And though he was, surprisingly, not too bothered by the fact that she had barged into his life uninvited and unexpected, something else unnerved him much more.

The whole time Akari had been there, she had not left the house once. The whole time that Akari had been a guest in his home, Akari had stayed inside her room and not once stepped outside the front door.

That it was unarguably unhealthy for Akari to shy away from the world outside her domain did not bother Akira so much as the fact that he suspected Akari wanted to go outside. He caught her several times now staring out at the window with a longing sort of look in her eyes, confirming his suspicions.

He had gotten into the habit of inviting her out on his walks or to go matches, but she always politely turned him down.

He had a feeling she wanted to leave, but for some reason, she was hesitant.

Akira wanted to help her, but he didn't know how. He couldn't very well force her to leave the house, dragging her out and such. He feared that doing so would only incur her wrath, which could be scary enough just when Akira avoided eating the vegetables in her meals.

Akira sighed.

It was a dilemma that Akira did not know how to solve, and he was finding himself encounter more and more of these dilemmas—to the point where sometimes he'd be playing go with Hikaru and his mind would wander to Akari and his dilemmas, rather than the dilemma of capturing all the pieces in front of him.

Sometimes, too, he'd be doing something normal and think of her randomly for no reason. Sometimes his thoughts would drift to her at inappropriate times, such as laundry or reading, and he'd wonder what she was doing or what she was thinking or how she felt.

Akira couldn't fathom why; it disturbed him and he was constantly frustrated.

He heard light footsteps.

Akira lifted his head and saw Akari at the door with a worried expression on her face.

* * *

"You're troubled." Akari's voice was soft, and although she tried to disguise, it was also laced with concern. She was never very good at hiding her emotions; she'd been told since she was young that she had a very expressive face. Akari wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

Akira simply shook his head. "It's nothing," he muttered.

Akari frowned. "You're lying," she accused, not angrily. Akari was told she was easy to read, but at the same time, she was adept at reading other people's emotions. At least, she did possess that skill before she had slipped into her depression. She had even perfected the skill before the accident. Having a child was in conjunction with a heightened sense of intuition.

Akira paused before he looked up and stared at her straight in the eye. He took a hold of her hand and Akari's instinctive reaction was to flinch her hand away. Akira's hands, however, firmly grasped onto hers and Akari was taken aback by his bold action.

"Fujisaki-san," Akira spoke, his eyes studying hers.

"… Yes?" Akari's voice was weak. Her heart beat sped up. She wasn't sure if it was because she was simply surprised, or if it was because of the fact that they were in such close proximity and touching physically. She wasn't sure if she liked the touch or not.

"Are you… unhappy?" Akira's dark eyes continued to study hers for a reaction.

Akari bit her lip. "What do you mean?"

Akira let go of her hand and Akari clutched her fingers to her skirt. The place where his hands touched hers burned. Akari was sure her cheeks were flaming crimson at this point. She hoped that Akira did not notice, but she doubted he didn't. He was much too observant and she was much too readable.

"I'm going out for a walk." Akira stood and walked towards the door, grabbing his coat and putting it on. "Just a short walk, not too long," Akira said. He turned and stared at Akira with a meaningful look. "Would you like to accompany me?"

She was confused.

"I think I'll stay here," she responded, her throat dry. Akari fidgeted, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She felt restless.

"Are you sure?" Akira asked again.

Akari nodded her head slowly.

Akira smiled. "I think you should come with me," he said.

At his words, Akari looked at him strangely. Akira usually never pressed on so stubbornly. Normally, he would give her a resigned look and leave alone, but from the way he spoke now, Akari almost felt like a disobedient child being rebuked by an adult who knew better.

A flame of annoyance sparked up in her, but instantly vanquished when she looked at him again and realized that he was not commanding her.

He was pleading almost.

Akari smiled and she suddenly felt shy.

Akira seemed to pick up on her vulnerability because he stepped towards her and took a hold of her hand, leading her to the door.

"Come," he said.

The door opened.

Akari stepped outside and she took a breath of fresh air.

She looked at Akira.

"It's cold. Hold on, I'm going to go get my jacket."

* * *

**A/N**: I'm quite sorry I haven't updated in an eternity, but I've been really busy with school and I meant to update thanksgiving weekend, but I got into an accident and couldn't type for a while.  
Thanks for those who continue to read; I hope the next update will be soon since winter break is coming up. Hopefully I will update then, but nothing is certain.  
On a positive note, I am absolutely certain that I will finish Building Castles eventually, even at a snail-pace rate. Although I've written dozens of fics, and though Building Castles is not the most highly demanded fic I've written (My PoT fics are in higher demand), it is one of my favorite fics I've written and very close to my heart, and it is the only fic that I am certain I will finish.  
There are a planned 20 parts, each about 1000 words, so I'm almost halfway there! 

**Yvie**: I never tried to commit suicide, but a few years ago, I was in a state of perpetual, worsening depression that spanned four years and I did often think of suicide at that time. I was fortunate to get out of it before it got any worse, however.  
**Alli**: I'm glad you reviewed. :) Reading your reviews inspired me to work on this again.  
**Rayearthann**: Thanks for constantly lending your support. I haven't had time to catch up on Eternal Snow yet, I think I'm like eight or so chapters behind, but I plan to after finals. BTW, I've always been curious, but do you just ship Akira/Akari or also Hikaru/Akari. (I ship both.)  
And thanks to everyone else who has left feedback! **White Alchemist Taya, fff, xiar, tsubame-chan, Aeris, ****Coiling Death****, Snow Slushie, Lokiador, ****Go-Angel****chidoriochibi****, F****loriaCharms****, Dumber, ****augustinehui****A Fake Reality****, Naoku, ****sally-wu-99****echy****, meme.**  
Thanks for reading and I hope you continue to enjoy!


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